My gaze darts back to the woman who put Shit-Faced Ulrich in his place. She’s still standing where he left her, her hands firm on the curve of her hips and a heated glare in her eyes.
Damn, this girl is good.
Once Chad is gone, her face finally softens, and my breath hitches as she turns, gazing past me to the bartender like she’s trying to decide something. She’s stunning. Her long red dress clings to her slight curves, hugging every inch. Somehow, she’s sexy and classy as fuck all at the same time. Her light brown waves cascade just below her shoulders and brush against a hint of cleavage.
I know I shouldn’t keep staring. And not because she might catch me looking at her chest. Or because I don’t have the confidence to openly appreciate a beautiful woman.
It’s those eyes.
Cool, narrowed, focused.
Filled with the kind of curiosity that makes them dangerous. And I have no doubt they would see right through me.